


Asunder

by Anonymous



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon - Book, Friendship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 06:37:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2014824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boromir manages to hold out against the influence of the Ring for a little while longer. Frodo, afraid, makes a different choice. Some events are forever changed, while others are merely delayed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asunder

**Author's Note:**

> I've been hesitating on whether or not I should post this today, mainly because I know it's going to be a while before I can get the next chapter up. I can't help but think that saying, "Here's a short prologue, but you're going to have to wait a while if you want to know what the story's actually about!" isn't the nicest thing to do to your readers, and so, I was initially going to wait to post this. 
> 
> But today is also the 60th anniversary of the publication of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ , which seems like a rather appropriate date to begin posting a new Lord of the Rings story. In the end, that swayed me. 
> 
> One last note: while I realize that this prologue deals with other characters, this story, as the tags might suggest, will primarily focus on Legolas and Gimli. 
> 
> And so, without further ado, here is the prologue to _Asunder_.

> _Suddenly Boromir came and sat beside him. "Are you sure that you do not suffer needlessly?" he said. "I wish to help you. You need counsel in your hard choice. Will you not take mine?"_
> 
> _"I think I know already what counsel you would give, Boromir," said Frodo. "And it would seem like wisdom but for the warning of my heart."_
> 
> _"Warning? Warning against what?" said Boromir sharply._
> 
> _"Against delay. Against the way that seems easier. Against refusal of the burden that is laid on me. Against — well, if it must be said, against trust in the strength and truth of Men."_
> 
> — _The Fellowship of the Ring_ by J.R.R. Tolkien, Book Two, "The Breaking of the Fellowship"

Something like anger flashed in Boromir's eyes. The silence between their words stretched, too long; he struggled for a moment, his face twisting. His eyes turned from Frodo, and looked upon the west. The west, to Gondor.

Frodo did not see; his eyes were upon his own hands. 

"I have upset you," said Frodo finally, when Boromir did not reply. 

Boromir started, and looked upon the halfling again. The lines of his face smoothed. "Nay," he said, slowly. "I was merely— thinking."

"Of?" Frodo asked. 

A strange look passed over Boromir's face, but when Frodo turned to glance at him, it had already gone. "It matters not," said Boromir, firmly now. Then, "Will you truly not hear my counsel? You are being hasty."

"Hasty?" Frodo choked on a sound that might have been a laugh, once. "No. I believe I have wavered for too long."

Boromir shook his head. His eyes filled with light. "Yes— hasty. We have been removed from the world in these long days since Lórien. Would it not be wiser to learn of the Enemy's movements since, before you chose your attack?"

Frodo looked up with weary eyes. "You speak of Minas Tirith."

"I do not deny it." Boromir's fingers shook; he curled them in steady fists. "It is no delay, should you be truly set on your— path. There is little difference in the distance, should Mordor call you so fiercely."

"Mordor does not call me," answered Frodo. "But I fear I must go there nonetheless."

"Without knowledge of what the Enemy does? Without knowledge of what or how you come there? I would call any soldier that came to me with such a plan foolish." 

Boromir did not speak harshly, though his words sounded so. His voice was that of a friend— or brother.

Frodo hesitated. "I— I do not know," he replied, though Boromir had asked no question. He raised his head to the sky, then lowered his gaze back to the ground beneath his feet. "I must think a while longer. I— I must have time, alone with my thoughts, before I can decide."

Boromir stood; he had heard the dismissal. For a moment, he did not move but merely stood there, hesitating. Looming. Frodo looked up, sharply. 

"You will think upon what I have said?" asked Boromir, and his voice sounded odd.

"I—" began Frodo, before stopping. He looked upon Boromir, and the face that looked back at him was that of a friend. Then: "Yes," he said, and it sounded as though the word had been torn from him. "Yes, I will."

 

* * *

 

The Fellowship waited upon the riverbanks, silent and watchful. For a while, conversation had bloomed among them, but it had stifled upon the return of Boromir and his quiet, thoughtful face— an expression that seemed unlike him.

"I have spoken with him," he had said, when Aragorn had pressed. "He begged for a little more time for his decision; I gave it to him."

Aragorn had looked at him for a moment, eyes sharp, before nodding and turning away. Nothing more was said.

Some time had passed since then, and the silence laid heavy upon them. It was not the silence that had enveloped them for many nights, that of friends and companions, but rather a thick, noxious silence that none seemed to be able to break.

None, except, perhaps, for a hobbit.

"Should we go get him?" piped up Pippin. "It's been well over an hour by now, I should think." 

Gimli stirred at his words, but it was Aragorn who spoke. "Yes," he said, agreeing. "We have lingered here too long; now we must decide our path. I will call him."

Before he could say more, however, another voice spoke.

"There's no need for that," and the Company turned as one to Frodo. None of them— save perhaps for Legolas, who had not spoken— had noticed him approach through the trees. "I have made my decision," he said, and his voice was heavy, set.

None dared speak now. Their eyes fixed upon Frodo, waiting for his words. In Boromir's face, there was something fierce, like hope, or, perhaps, despair.

Frodo raised his head, and looked upon his companions. Aragorn, grim and watchful and considering, and Boromir, unmoving. Pippin, impatient and eager, and Merry, calmer but no less determined. Gimli, his hand settled against the halt of his axe, ready to march a thousand miles more if Frodo asked, and Legolas, standing at Gimli's side, his face unreadable. 

And _Sam_ , loyal, dedicated Sam, who had sworn to follow him wherever he went. Sam, who looked at Frodo like he knew the thoughts that ran through his mind.

Quietly, hating himself, he said: "We go to Minas Tirith."


End file.
